Malfoys Don't Mourn
by whitetiger91
Summary: Malfoys do not mourn—not for anyone or anything. When it comes to his son, Lucius will make sure Draco knows this—even if Narcissa disagrees.


**Malfoys Don't Mourn**

 ** _A/N: This story was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Forum, Training Camp Round 2. I am on the Penzance Pegai, Chaser 1. My prompts for this round were to write about my OTP dealing with a death, and (word) inkling, (word) coated), and (word) bench. Word count: 2983 words._**

 ** _I apologise if this isn't the best, and I could blame life right now, but it wouldn't be fair. I've also realised I already did this round back as a Chaser for the Falmouth Falcons (for my OTP Walburga and Orion Black), plus written about death for my other OTP (Mrs and Mr Nott) several times before, so I decided to stick with my very first OTP, Narcissa and Lucius. Hopefully, this isn't too much of a stretch for them (my mind just wouldn't write the 'Abraxas gets Dragonpox but Lucius doesn't care' plot that I wanted to do), but it is based on a true story of sorts._**

 ** _Just for anyone curious, Noctua is the name of the owl constellation :)_**

 ** _A huge thank you to my lovely betas, Di (cheadsearc) and Shay (ipsa dixit)! And to Kat (roseus vortex) for talking over ideas! :D_**

 ** _Dedicated to Zivvy (Zivandre), for always making me smile Xx_**

* * *

The early morning sun shone through the open windows, warming up the dining room. Narcissa smiled and shifted her chair around so that it was directly in the path of the incoming rays. It had been cold for far too long that year, the winter seemingly never-ending. She would now finally be able to stroll out in the gardens again and perhaps check up on her roses. If Lucius got off work early, they might even be able to take Draco to the park.

"Will you be late home from work tonight, dear?" Narcissa asked.

It took Lucius a moment to respond. His nose was buried in a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ , and he turned a page before finally putting it down. Glancing at his watch, he turned narrowed eyes towards the window.

"If that ruddy owl doesn't come back soon, I might not even get to work," he said.

Narcissa rolled her eyes and turned back to her toast. She wanted to remind Lucius that he was the one who had the brilliant idea of sending their family owl, Noctua, out to collect their post not five seconds after he had brought them the newspaper. Whilst it was the owl's job to fetch the post, the creature was getting old, and any animal would tire out after one journey alone. Even so, Noctua was later than usual.

"Is there anything interesting in the paper?" she asked, deciding to change the topic.

When Lucius didn't answer, she looked back across at him. He was still glaring out the window, his fingers tapping against the table's surface. To his right, their son was watching him, bobbing his head along. The little blond then picked up his spoon, and following Lucius' rhythm, tapped out a tune.

"Draco! What have I told you about—ah, finally!"

Narcissa followed Lucius' gaze, turning to the window just in time to see Noctua come soaring inside. Rather than landing on the low bench just below the window, however, the owl skidded along the length of the table. His talons scratched the freshly polished surface, his wings flapping in a poor attempt to slow himself down.

Lucius cursed as the owl landed in front of him and knocked his bowl to the ground. "Stupid bird."

He snatched the mail tied around the owl's leg and pushed the bird away. Picking up the silver letter opener in front of him, he slit open the letters and focused on their contents.

"What's wrong with Noccy, Mother?" Draco asked.

She turned her gaze back to her son, who was staring at Noctua with wide grey eyes. The owl himself was trying to sit up, but with every move he made, his foot would slip beneath him and he would topple to the side. His feathers were very dishevelled, and the skin around his large, amber eyes was coated with some sort of pus. When she peered closer at him, she could see that the owl couldn't quite hold his neck upright.

Narcissa's heart sank. Noctua was acting very much like their previous owl had not long before his time on earth was up. When she had picked out their new one as a surprise birthday gift for Draco two years ago, she had been sceptical that Noctua was far too old. Eugene Eeylop had promised her that the purebred eagle owl would last for at least eight more years, however, and she had made the purchase. Now she only hoped she would not have to find another for his sixth birthday.

She fixed a smile on her face. "Nothing's the matter, dear. Noctua is just getting a little old now and might need some rest."

Lucius scoffed, and Narcissa shot a glare at him. It was not the time to teach their son about the fragility of life. Lucius stared right back at her and shook his head.

"It's time he knew," he said and resumed pawing through the letters.

Draco swivelled his head back and forth from his father to her, and she quickly placed a smile back on her face. "I'll tell you what, Draco. How about you and I take Noctua down to the kitchens? If we wrap him up in a few soft blankets and let him have a nap, he might feel better."

"I don't want that thing anywhere near my food," Lucius said.

"Dobby, fetch some supplies," Narcissa said.

When the house-elf popped into the room, Narcissa pointed to the owl. She then stood and walked down the table to where Draco was sitting. Helping him off his chair, she clutched his hand and led him out of the room. Before she left, she shot another glare at her husband, letting him know exactly how much she appreciated his comments.

* * *

She had an inkling that something wasn't quite right all evening. Although she had tried to concentrate on her novel, her heart seemed to skip a beat at every strange noise. So when Draco came bursting into their bedroom, it was almost with relief to know what it was.

 _Almost._

"Mother! Mother! He's not moving!" Their son's grey eyes were wide, and he ran over to her side of the bed. He tugged on her arm, not caring that he had broken his father's golden rule of never entering their bedroom without prior permission. "Please, please get up."

Lucius' face was red, and he narrowed his eyes at the boy. "What have I told you—"

"It's alright, Draco, I'll come down and check," Narcissa cut in.

She threw a glare at Lucius—something she seemed to always be doing lately—and placed her book on her bedside table. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood up, grabbed her dressing gown, and allowed Draco to lead her out of the room.

As they left, she saw Lucius' jaw clench and with his wand, he turned off the bedroom light.

Draco was almost running as he took her down to the kitchens, and Narcissa had to work to match his pace. He didn't slow down until he let go of her hand, and with a small sniffle, bent under one of the kitchen benches. He pulled the box that held Noctua towards him and stroked the owl's feathers.

"See? He's not moving."

Narcissa walked over to her son and knelt down next to him. Peering into the box, she saw that Noctua was indeed motionless. She placed a hand on his chest to see if perhaps he was still breathing, but she didn't need to. The owl's neck was held at a crooked angle, and as she moved his body a little, she could see that his eyes were unblinking.

She turned to Draco. The boy was watching the owl, tears falling down his cheeks.

"Is he going to be okay?" he asked.

Narcissa swallowed. She needed to tell Draco the truth, to let him know that Noctua was no longer with them. She had explained as much to him when their old owl had passed away, but he had been too young to truly understand. Now that he was older, she knew he might be able to process the truth.

When she looked at him, however, he looked even smaller and more fragile than she remembered.

"He-he's just sleeping," she said and placed a hand upon Draco's shoulder.

Draco resumed patting Noctua, this time with a little more force. "Are you sure?"

Narcissa nodded. "Yes, I'm sure he's quite fine."

The sound of the kitchen door opening behind them echoed across the room, and she turned to see Lucius standing in the doorway.

"What in Merlin's name is taking so long? Haven't you thrown it away yet? I don't want any disease spreading," he said, stomping over to them. He gazed into the box and clicked his tongue. "I knew that thing was too old when you bought it. Next time, let me make the choice."

Draco looked back and forth from his mother to his father. "Throw him out?"

Narcissa's cheeks burned, and she stood up. Fixing her gaze on Lucius, she said, "He is just sleeping."

Lucius sighed. "He has to learn about these things sometime. The owl is dead; it's not a big deal."

At this, Draco let out a small gasp and his eyes welled with fresh tears. Lucius went to step forward, his hand raised, but Narcissa stepped in front of him. Lucius may not have approved of Draco crying, but she certainly wouldn't allow him to punish him for it. Not when Lucius could've prevented the tears in the first place by keeping his mouth shut.

Lucius narrowed his eyes at her, but she kept her stance. The two gazed into each other's eyes for a moment until finally, Lucius stepped back. Throwing his hands up in the air, he stalked out of the room.

Narcissa made sure he was gone before she turned back to her son. Leaning over, she wrapped her arms around his small frame. She could feel his back shaking underneath her hands as she rubbed soothing circles.

"Shhh, my little dragon; it'll be alright. You let those tears fall, and in the morning, we will make sure Noctua is as comfortable as possible, alright?"

Draco pulled back and nodded. The look on his face broke her heart, and when he gave a small nod, she held him closer.

* * *

"Where is our son?"

Narcissa placed her goblet of pumpkin juice on a coaster. Taking a deep breath, she met Lucius' icy gaze and said, "Putting on his coat."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

With a sigh, Narcissa picked her goblet up again. "You know perfectly well what we are doing today; please don't bother pretending otherwise."

The pair had spent the night arguing about what was appropriate to tell Draco, and in the end, Narcissa had won. She had informed Lucius that they would be burying Draco's owl in the morning after breakfast, as it would most certainly help give him some much-needed closure. And that no, she was not asking his permission to do so.

Lucius harrumphed and picked up the paper. It didn't help that he had had to get the paper through the _Prophet's_ owl service, which was not only half an hour later with delivery, but who's barn owl had delivered the paper to the table with a mouse tail hanging from its mouth.

"You are spoiling him, you know," he said after a moment.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "I am teaching him the value of a life."

Lucius threw the paper to the table. His eyes were stormy as he said, "No, you are teaching him to mourn for creatures that are beneath him. How do you think that's going to help him in the future? Merlin forbid one of those wretched house-elves die—are we expected to bury them, too?"

"I am quite frankly at a loss as to why you cannot deal with death with anything other than coldness. What sort of impression do you think you're leaving on Draco?" Narcissa's voice had risen a few octaves, and she swallowed to calm the anger that throbbed through her veins.

Lucius seemed to be doing the same. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the table, his nostrils flaring.

In a low voice, he said, "Whether you like it or not, death will be a significant part of Draco's life. Our world will never be perfect, and it's high time you stop treating him like a baby."

Narcissa scraped back her chair. Her entire body felt like it was on fire. She knew exactly what Lucius was implying, but she would never allow Draco to take up his line of work, no matter whether the Dark Lord rose again or not. Piercing Lucius with the fiercest glare she could manage—one that was enough to make him flinch back in his chair—she pointed a finger at him.

"You'd certainly better hope that Draco never has to deal with death like that." Her body was trembling, and she lowered her voice. "I expect you to attend this funeral, and I expect you to be there to comfort your son."

Straightening her back, she stormed out of the room.

* * *

"I'll mi-miss you, Noc-Noccy," Draco said.

Narcissa placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and nudged him closer to the small hole that Dobby had dug. He bent down and scooped up a handful of dirt, and with a pause to wipe his nose, threw the dirt over the small cardboard box lying inside.

"Goodbye, Noccy," he said.

"You were a lovely owl," Narcissa added.

She gave Dobby a small nod, and the little elf picked up the shovel. With a few laboured breaths, the creature began to fill in the makeshift grave with soil. Draco wriggled out of her grasp and stood behind the elf with the rest of the mourning party—a line of Draco's toys, each one holding a handkerchief.

Narcissa turned her gaze back towards the manor. A curtain twitched on one of the upper floor windows, and she narrowed her eyes. She could just make out Lucius' pale blond hair, but before she could see his expression, the curtain fell back into place.

He was probably still watching them, but she didn't care. Turning her back to the house, she called Draco over to her. His eyes were red, and he continued to stare at the place under the large oak tree where Dobby was digging.

He didn't say a word as they walked up the winding dirt path towards the manor. Only a few hiccoughs escaped his lips, and Narcissa's heart gave a pang. He would have been better off thinking that Noctua had been able to recover and that he was simply too busy delivering mail to come to the house. If Lucius hadn't butted in, she would probably have even been able to find an owl who looked similar to Noctua and passed him off as the same bird, at least until Draco was old enough to head off to Hogwarts.

When they reached the back door, Lucius met them. He was wearing his travelling cloak, and when he saw Draco's red face, he glared at the boy.

Narcissa ushered their son inside and turned to her husband. "It was a lovely service."

"I'm going out." Brushing past her, he walked over to the edge of their manicured lawn. Without so much as an explanation as to where he was going, he twisted on the spot and disappeared.

Narcissa shook her head. Why did he have to be so difficult? Could he not for once try to be empathetic?

* * *

"...and Babbity-Wabbity skipped down the path, far from the dragon's reach."

Narcissa closed the book and smiled down at her son. His tears had finally ceased falling as he grew sleepy, and although he wasn't begging for her to read another chapter as he usually did, it was enough for now.

A knock on the door startled her and she turned towards the source. Her smile disappeared when she saw Lucius standing in the doorway, a parcel held behind his back.

"May I speak to our son?"

Narcissa shook her head. "It's his bedtime; he needs rest."

Lucius frowned and stepped forward. "Please?"

Looking at Draco, she saw that her son was wiping at his face with the sleeve of his pyjamas. She shook her head again and turned back to Lucius, but he was already at the edge of the bed.

She leant over and pressed a kiss to Draco's forehead. Then, standing up, she gave Lucius a warning look before walking out the door. She pulled it closed behind her, and it was only when she heard Lucius' low voice that she cracked it open again.

Lucius' back was to her, and he was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I bought this today. Mind you, I don't believe in wasting money on such frivolous things, but just this once, I think it's alright," he said, holding the parcel out to Draco.

"Thank you, Father," Draco said. There was a small smile on his face, but she could see his eyes were full of confusion. "...What is it?"

Lucius' shoulders heaved as he sighed. "A gravestone. See here? It says Noctua. Tomorrow you and I will place it on that bird's—your owl's grave, alright?"

Draco gave a small nod, his eyes still a little glazed over. Lucius leant over and pulled the blankets over him.

"Goodnight, Draco."

"Goodnight, Father."

Narcissa leapt away from the door and pressed herself against the wall. A few seconds later, Lucius pushed the door open and ambled out.

"I thought you didn't approve," she said, placing her hands on her hips.

Lucius sighed. "I don't approve of our son wasting his time on creatures; I never will," he said. When she pursed her lips, he added, "But you were right. Partly, anyway. I do think that perhaps it may be best if we ease him into the idea of death, because I know if I lost someone, I probably would shed a tear."

Narcissa rolled her eyes, but a smile was playing on her lips. "What, only a single tear?"

Lucius' own lips twisted into a smirk. "If I really cared about the person, maybe two."

Narcissa swatted him on the arm. Balancing on her toes, she leant up and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she said.

Lucius nodded, the amusement momentarily gone from his eyes, before his smirk widened. "Come on, I believe it's also our bedtime. We may as well enjoy the life we do have."

He walked off down the hallway towards their bedroom. When he reached their door, he turned around and raised an eyebrow. Narcissa rolled her eyes again but quickly followed.

"I think that is one thing we can agree on."


End file.
